


Performance Review

by epkitty



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: First Time, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-01
Updated: 2011-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-16 00:39:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/166591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epkitty/pseuds/epkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little something about Rude and Reno's working relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Performance Review

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Tarot card 19, The Sun.

No one thought Reno would even make it through training, let alone his first year. No one except Tseng – who’d recruited him out of a faction of sloppy eco-terrorist wannabes – and Rude, who’d stepped forward as a mentor. The day Reno graduated training and became an official Turk, Tseng and Rude split the winnings on the ‘Reno survival pool’ and took half the Turks out to celebrate, where Reno easily drank them all under the table, despite having his arm in a sling and a body already pumped full of painkillers thanks to an unstable ledge that had been blown out from under his feet that morning.

That was the party famed for witnessing a shirtless Tseng dancing on the bartop singing crazy Wutaian love songs until he fell off into Cissnei’s arms and declared his undying love for the Shinra Company, and then cried until he passed out. It was also the party where Reno drew Rude aside to ask, “So, what happens now? Who am I going to be partnered with?”

Rude just looked him in the eye – sunglasses absent – and said, “We make a good team. Don’t see any reason to change that.”

Reno had assumed Rude would go on to mentor the next incoming Turk, (there was talk about a girl named Elena that Verdot wanted to pull out of the junior militia) the first since Reno, which was really saying something since Reno had been brought in almost two years before and the Turks had lost eight of their number in that time.

But at this proclamation, Reno smiled a blinding grin, clapped Rude on the shoulder, and challenged him to a game of darts.

Which was how they came to be standing outside Conference Room Four one year later, waiting for Reno’s first annual performance review.

“Your shirt, Reno,” Rude said.

“I thought I…” Reno patted himself down. The white shirt was tucked in front but the tails were hanging out the back. Reno awkwardly stuffed it into place. “Damn suits…”

He was obviously _incredibly_ nervous.

“You have a tie?”

“Aw crap, I forgot—”

“Thought you might,” Rude muttered and pulled a black, rolled-up tie from his pocket. “Here.”

“Damn, thanks man, shit,” Reno said, flipping up his collar. He pulled the length of black fabric into place and thoroughly tied the whole thing into a convoluted mess.

“Piece-of-crap, stupid…”

“Want a hand?”

“Fuck. Yeah.”

Reno stood as still as he could while bouncing on the balls of his feet, facing Rude, whose large fingers gently eased the soft fabric from its tangle around Reno’s neck.

“Stand still,” Rude admonished, slightly nervous himself.

Reno relented and took to humming tunelessly instead.

Rude frowned.

“Problem?” Reno asked.

“Facing the wrong way. Can’t do it backwards. Turn around.”

Reno was too distracted even to make a joke about want-me-to-bend-over-too?

Then huge arms were wrapping around him, hands settling so gently at his throat, Reno felt only a whisper of skin and shirt cuff. He tensed and held perfectly still, feeling Rude leaning to one side to peer down at his handiwork as the tie fell neatly into place.

Watching those large hands at his throat, Reno felt his face begin to flush with warmth and he hissed in a breath.

And then Cissnei said, “Wow. I didn’t realize you guys were so open about it,” as she joined them in the hall.

They froze.

Then, the conference room door opened. “The Chief w… Well, really. Right in the hallway? Rude, you should know better.” Tseng smirked, far too pleased.

Rude hastily withdrew his arms and shot his cuffs as he did, with a compelling shrug of wide shoulders.

Then Reno and Rude followed Tseng into the Spartan room. Reno was directed to stand in the middle of the open space, and Rude took a stance half a step behind and to one side of him. “Turn down your collar,” he murmured. “And zip your jacket.”

Tseng and Verdot seated themselves behind the long table along one wall, where Cissnei joined them, as did about a dozen other Turks in immaculate suits who filed into the room behind her.

Reno nervously tugged at his tie.

“Stop that,” Rude grunted.

“What is…”

“It’s a peer review.”

“Peer—?! _You didn’t say anything about that!_ ”

“Wasn’t supposed to.”

They spoke from the sides of their mouths, whispering as the Turks took their seats.

“If you’re done with your sweet nothings,” Tseng said, still smirking, “we’ll begin.”

At which point Reno was asked a long series of open-ended questions, which he answered as honestly as he could, out of fear more than anything else, even when the answers didn’t put him in the best light. By the end of it, he felt as though he’d been put through the wringer, and then came the peer review.

All the Turks in the room had worked with Reno on at least one mission, and Verdot had them speak at turns, from one end of the table to the other.

“reckless…”

“foolish…”

“neglected…”

“selfish…”

“wasteful…”

“negligence…”

“irreverent…”

“failed…”

“ignored…”

“issues…”

“risked…”

“authority…”

“drunken…”

Reno paled as each took their turn.

“Rude?” Verdot asked.

“Overall, Reno is difficult to work with. He’s often late, irreverent of company policy, and careless in his work.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah. He’s the best goddamn Turk we have.”

Verdot and Tseng looked to the other Turks, each of whom solemnly nodded, and then burst out into spontaneous conversation.

“Should have seen him…”

“When he had to…”

“Saved me from…”

“Did you see…”

“Then when he jumped…”   
“Didn’t even flinch…”

“Melee combat…”

“Couldn’t come close…”

“Just zapped ‘em right…”

“Walked away like…”

“Didn’t think he could, but…”

“After that fiasco…”

“Like a fucking bat outta hell…”

“Should have seen him…”

Verdot raised a hand for silence. “Thank you for your… input. Reno, your superiors and your peers have noted your reluctance to follow Shinra’s company policies, best practices, and safety regulations. They’ve repeatedly cited your transgressions in the office, in the field, and even on deep ops. You show poor judgment in regards to your own safety and will therefore be attending risk assessment seminars, with Rude, who will remain your partner, against our wishes. But he’s your direct senior and has… persuaded us to keep you together.”

Reno threw an interested look over his shoulder. Rude’s sunglasses hid everything.

“You’ve also singled yourself out as the best hand-to-hand combat fighter we have, next to Rude. We prefer to pair our Turks with varying skills, but Rude’s a fair shot, and his knowledge of explosives unparalleled in our ranks. His heal spells are of the highest quality and we think that having him around will benefit you a great deal. As for you, your limited range of magical abilities are at least impressive when you use them, and you’re the best pilot we have, since Brenna died. …Together, you make possibly the most skilled team we have, or ever have had.”

The Turks all nodded their silent approval, except Tseng, who sat back, his mouth covered by one idle hand, probably thinking that this was the last sort of encouragement Reno needed.

“So, congratulations, sergeant.”

“Sergeant?”

“You’ve been promoted, dumbass,” Rude murmured behind him.

Reno grinned. “Does that mean I get to boss the privates around?!”

“Reno,” Verdot said, silencing the blooming conversations throughout the room. “We’ve established that your… conduct is lacking. I’m not asking you to tie your tie everyday and be here at nine sharp. But if your foolishness ever puts anyone in this company in jeopardy, I’ll have your hide. And hand whatever’s leftover to Hojo.”

Reno paled and nodded. “Understood, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

Rude didn’t even have a chance to slap Reno’s shoulder as the Turks swarmed around him, congratulations, flattery, words tumbling after words on their lips.

Rude watched it all, then watched as Reno extricated himself to weave back to Rude’s side, a huge grin on his face.

“Time for the happy couple to celebrate!”

And so the hooting and hollering continued.

“I hope Reno’s ready…”

“Yeah, it’s gonna take some work to…”

Turks could be very crude.

“…take that monster up his ass!”

Only Rude could see Reno roll his eyes before the redhead turned and cut a path through the crowd out to the hall, as he announced to Rude in a voice that carried clear to the other side of the room, “I just think it’s funny they all assume _you’re_ the top.”

Rude cracked his knuckles and glared through his glasses as they led the group out of the room.

“S’wrong?” Reno asked as they fled down the hall, the others dawdling behind them, going their own ways.

“They should shut their mouths,” Rude said.

Reno laughed. “It bothers you? They’re just having us on.”

“They don’t say things about Jenna and Herman. Or Swifty and Cassius.”

“Well, Swifty’s downright crazy, ain’t he?” Reno said. “Shoot anybody mentioned anything. Plus, Jenna’s frigid as an icicle. You remember how it all started, so don’t go blaming me,” Reno said as they stepped into an elevator and Reno punched a button. “Was Cissnei and Ayame found you passed out on top of me.”

“S’drunk,” Rude grunted.

Reno laughed. “I was so wasted that night! I was like, ‘aw, he’s so cute, shame to wake him…’ Guess the girls thought so, too. And the way you react doesn’t help matters.”

“What do you want me t’do?” Rude asked. “Punch everyone who makes a crack at us?”

“Wouldn’t go amiss. But then, half the people at Shinra would be knocked out, so I guess it’s a little late to start. But if it’s such a damn bother, you totally shoulda socked the first person to say something.”

“I don’t make a habit of punching Tseng in the face, on account of ruining the boss’s mug doesn’t stand me in good stead with the company.”

Reno made a noise that was part snort and part laugh. “ _Tseng_ started it?! Didn’t know he had it in him.”

“And you?” Rude asked.

“Me what?”

“It doesn’t bother you? What they say about us?”

Reno laughed. “What do I care!”

Rude finally realized that Reno didn’t. Didn’t give a shit what was said about him.

Rude also felt a little pissed off, because if there was a rumor like this going around about him, he’d at least like to actually be getting laid regular. Instead of just staring at Reno’s ass every time he swaggered forward, taking the lead again.

They got off the elevator at the garage level, heading leisurely for Rude’s company car.

Out of nowhere, Rude stopped, looked around, and grunted, “Got something for you.”

“Huh?”

“Like… uh…” Rude searched for the right word as he reached into his jacket, head bowed.

“A present?”

Rude grunted. “For your promotion.”

“What is it?”

“Is it a kiss?” Cissnei piped up. “That’s sweet.”

“Stuff it,” Reno told her, pissed off that she’d managed to sneak up on them _again_.

“Shove off, Cissnei. Why don’t you go moon over Cassius at the pub,” Rude told her and waited for her to slouch away toward her car before he pulled something from an inner pocket. “R’goggles,” he said, handing them over. “Experimental model, swung ‘em from a guy in Tactical, owed me a favor.”

Reno gingerly took them, marveling at the workmanship. “ _Sweet_. What do they do?”

“All sorts. Night vision, targeting, distance equations, superb protection from heat, projectiles…”

An evil giggle immediately bubbled up Reno’s throat. He put the goggles on, fitting the strap into place, fiddling with the dials, then pushed them up onto his forehead, red bangs flopping every which way. “Excellent!”

Of course, then they had to go to the pub, and everyone it seemed, absolutely everyone Reno knew at the company was there, the Turks (mostly unintentionally) scaring off the routine custom until Shinra was the only presence in the long, narrow room.

There was off-key singing and drunken dancing, games and antics, laughter and teasing until a lot of people made a lot of bad choices. Tseng and Cissnei were snogging in a dark corner, and no one – absolutely no one – wanted to be anywhere on the same continent for _that_ morning after.

One of the SOLDIERs and Swifty and Cassius were playing darts, forcing one of the waitresses – quivering with fear – to stand between them and the dartboard while Jenna sat at the bar and downed shots of tequila way too fast to be safe, let alone healthy.

Ayame started taking off her clothes and Herman found a camera, which he immediately used to take pictures of Tseng and Cissnei until Tseng pulled out a derringer and shot him in the foot. That pretty much broke up the party, and Rude slung Reno – mostly unconscious – over his shoulder and then poured him into the passenger seat of the dark Shinra company car he drove.

In his apartment, Rude dumped Reno onto the sofa and poured water down his throat until Reno batted his hand away and said, “M’fine, dammit, don’ drown me…”

Rude grunted and set the water aside. He bowed over the couch to look at Reno upside down and feel Reno’s forehead, smiling at the goggles still sitting atop his head.

Then a strong hand snuck up to wrap itself in the tie that dangled from Rude’s neck. Reno’s eyes eased open as he pulled Rude down. “So partner,” he groaned, “ain’t it funny, the things people say.”

“Reno?”

“Wanna put those rumors to rest? Or put ‘em to good use, huh?”

“Reno…”

“Well, c’mon, you’re supposed kiss me or punch me in the face. It’s gotta be one or the other.”

When Rude neglected to do anything at all, Reno used his free hand to lift Rude’s sunglasses away. “What’s it gonna be, partner?”

Rude let the weight of Reno’s hand on his tie pull him down just the smallest fraction, like he might give in.

And then Reno smiled one of those damn brilliant smiles, like the world waking up.

And that’s when Rude kissed him.

Reno broke it with a laugh. “You taste funny upside down.”

Confused, Rude backed away. “Ha ha.”

“You’re always too serious,” Reno murmured, refusing to let go of the tie. “Let’s go to your bedroom, huh?”

“My…”

“Come on, Rude,” Reno said with a soft sigh like sugar, releasing the tie and sitting up. He downed the last of the water and grinned. “The perfect end to the best year of my life. First year as a Turk. Hell, could be my last. So?”

Rude stood still, arms crossed, brows drawn together. “So what?”

“So was all that staring at my ass just to pass the time or are you gonna do something about it?”

Rude just stared.

Reno heaved out a sigh and tried to run a hand through his bangs, forgetting about the goggles. He pulled them off and held them to the light to examine them again. He smiled and set them carefully on the low table before the couch. “Look, are you gonna turn this into a big, fuckin’ deal?”

“I just want to be clear,” Rude clarified.

Reno’s clear eyes darkened. “You wanna be clear? Is this clear enough? You’re gonna take me in that room, you’re gonna strip me naked and fuck me raw. How’s that for clear?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” Rude told him.

Reno’s arms fell limp to his sides and he swayed on his feet. “No, I guess not. Nothing’s ever simple with you, is it? I think that’s the mistake people make. Rude, big. Rude, grunt. Ugh-ugh. Rude, fight. Rude, kill. Rude, fuck. Guess not.”

“You trying to piss me off?”

“No, man. I’m saying that’s what people think, cause you don’t say more’n two words at a time. I know better. Guess I just forgot. Guessed this would be easy.”

“What do you really want, Reno?”

“I got a choice?”

Rude looked so unshielded without his glasses. He whispered, “What do you want?”

“Just you.” He grinned. “What a crappy line. I need a better one. What do you think about—”

Reno’s words petered out when Rude stepped forward and gently scooped up Reno’s hand and tugged him in the direction of the bedroom.

Reno gave a goofy grin and let himself be pulled. “Didn’t know I’d hafta get all romantic…”

“Can I kiss you again?” Rude asked, turning on the light in the bedroom.

“Duh,” Reno said, pulling him in, kissing him, stroking his bald head, his strong jaw. His drunken fingers pulled weakly at Rude’s tie.

“Let me,” Rude grumbled, loosening both their ties, undoing buttons, unbuckling belts. His large fingers pulled the band from the ponytail Reno was growing out so he could card through the blood-red hair over and over.

Reno laughed as he tripped over his own pants and underwear, trying to step out of his clothes.

Naked, Rude pulled their bodies together and kissed him again, steadily finding an equal partnership in this, too.

They half-sat, half-collapsed on the bed, each shuffling movement discovering new skin to touch, new places to taste, and new ways of looking at each other, all of it unexpected, but all of it entirely natural as sunshine.

“Just lay back,” Reno said, pushing a tattooed shoulder to the mattress. He subtly swung one leg over Rude’s hips to straddle him and thrust lazily, his ass tempting Rude’s cock to full hardness as he leaned over, a wild grin stretching his lips.

And then the hands – hands that had killed, tortured, burned, sabotaged – alighted on Rude’s skin with something like no Turk should ever be so lucky to possess; his touch was something bright.

He pressed into Rude’s flesh to push away the stress, kissed his lips to draw away every evil that had ever touched him. And his clever, clever fingers stroked his cock only to leave again, to make way for cleverer lips and tongue so hot and soft around him.

Rude clenched the bedsheets for fear of bruising Reno’s white flesh as he panted out in the cool, conditioned air of his Shinra apartment. He couldn’t say a word; he didn’t dare. He felt there would be a weakness in words, a voice deep and raw that would reveal too much. Like life wasn’t ridiculous enough already, like Reno wasn’t full enough of himself. He really didn’t need to tell Reno that every touch was like a goddamned miracle, because this was the best anything Rude had ever got in his life.

But Reno didn’t let Rude come.

He could be a real bastard that way.

Instead the redhead grinned his manic grin and fished a packet of something slippery from his discarded pants’ pocket. “You know what to do with this, right?”

“Bastard.”

Reno lay back, limbs long and lean and pale flung about the bed in haphazard disarray.

Rude had no poetic leanings, but sometimes Reno tempted him. He looked so bright.

The lube was slippery and cold. It warmed quick enough on his large hands. He stroked himself, familiar and sure. He probed Reno’s insides, new and uncertain.

There was something rich in this, something inevitable in it, too. Something eternal in Reno’s smile, which made no sense, because a Turk’s life was anything but.

Rude thrust in and in and Reno made the most delicious faces and most divine noises. Pale hands that looked delicate, pale hands that were so strong, dug into Rude’s muscles. Long legs drew Rude in. All of Reno drew Rude in. He always had.

“Reno.”

“Aw, fuck.”

“Love you.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I love you.”

Reno damn near cried as he was pounded into the mattress by his big, bald partner.

“S-stupid word,” Reno muttered. “...Love you, too.”

“Fuck… Reno, you’re like the sun.”

= = = = =

The End


End file.
